Lights? Camera?

My friends and friendlishes, I extend to you a reasonably jovial salutation. I expect that a few of you extend the same to me. How's your 2007 going? Chock full of the same 2006 lovin'? I sincerely hope that this year is the King Size version of the last, with 33% more nougat, caramel, and chocolatey goodness.

I can hear the skeptics among you now, asking, "why is that good-for-nothing, estranged, coward of an American bothering posting again? That's twice in a month! Doesn't he have anything better to do with himself, the lousy git?" Well, to that I can only reply, "There is nothing more satisfying than engaging in a light-hearted, albeit one-way, conversation with my fellow and fallen comrades (not that the two are the same, mind you)." And speaking of the onewayedness, well, it exists. If you're not dead, let me know. (My sincerest apologies to those of you who are, and may have been offended by my insensitivity).

And to those dear friends of my whom I've passed over in the last few months, I'm truly sorry. My intention was never to lose touch with all of you. Just a select few. (And, no, Ron, you're not one of them). Please accept my apologies. I have been lazy this year, and as I begin stirring in my hibernation, I'm starting to feel guilty about the poor, wee cubs I left in the freezing cold. If you're so inclined, ring me up. You can harass me as much as your sadistic hearts desire, and I'll not bat an eyelash - to this I swear. Conversely, you may send me your phone number accompanied by the rudest expletives you can muster, and if I find myself significantly scandalized, I'll be forced to ring you and give you a piece of my mind.

And I'm afraid I must unleash yet another apology upon the masses. You see, fate has bestowed upon me a wealth of free time this year - I work about as much as a one-legged prostitute, and make just slightly more (assuming she's working a decent beat). And having had a burst of creative energy semi-recently, I rather mistakenly thought that I could devote these free hours to writing a book. However, it was not meant to be. Having opened up my head, and chased down, stabbed, and taxidermized 40 pages of perfectly preserved prose, I found that there was naught behind it but a brick wall. So it goes. Like every other attempt before, this one has been filed away for posterity. Josh, it looks like your good name will not yet be tarnished by my pen. At least not in public.

So, for the last couple of weeks, I've been moping around the house, making everyone around me more miserable than usual by muttering "What to do, what to do," not only by being a general pain in the ass, but also by reminding them that I'm working a fraction of what they are. More out of desperation than any desire to do any real work, I placed an ad on the forums of mymerhaba.com, advertising private lessons. While perusing the various other advertisements, I happened across one seeking an American to play the part of the American President in an upcoming Turkish movie. "What an opportunity!" I exclaimed to no one in particular, as I began typing up a hasty application forthwith. They say that imitation is the highest form of flattery, but it's also a great way to take the piss out of someone.

Unsurprisingly, the director thought that 26 might be a bit young to play an American president. However, the nice young woman that I spoke to mentioned a new comedy that the company is producing - Amerikan Damat - the American Groom. She informed me that they were looking for an American man my age to play the main role - a young New Yorker who met a Turkish girl in college, and has come to Istanbul to get married.

She asked if I spoke Turkish, to which I replied "Bir az, evet." She asked me to send some photos, to which the writers replied, "Sexy!" (or at least, they weren't frightened away). Finally, she's asked me if I could come in the next day at 2:00 to meet the director. They are, as it were, "really interested." The fact that I have no acting experience matters little, I've been told, as it is terribly difficult to find an American in Istanbul willing to be made a monkey of in front of a camera for months (probably with little to no pay).

However, after growing more and more curious about such a unique opportunity, I asked some of my students about this company, Platofilm. Imagine my surprise when they had not only heard of the company, but immediately told me that the director, Sinan Cetin, is arguably one of the most important filmmakers in Turkey. Go figure. A quick search on Imdb.com has revealed not unimpressive credentials (Darryl Hanna was in one of his earlier movies - I didn't have time to peruse the page in its entirety). So, my friends, I hope to join the ranks, along with Cuneyt Arkin and Cem Yilmaz, of the ultra-famous, super-cool, blockbuster movie stars that neither you, nor the rest of the world have ever heard of. Exciting, innit? Thus, you naysayers and yaysayers, although I have shopped at Ikea, and although I occasionally pop into Starbucks on my way to work, and although there is now cable in my apartment (gak!), I'm not yet ready to sleep all my lunch breaks away until I jump in the extended cab of the great minivan in the sky. Wish me luck, comrades!

And to all you disgruntled youth - I've got space in the living room (our sofa is a king size bed), and there's more work here than we know what to do with. Come be a part of one of the last countries in Europe that hasn't sold its soul to the EU! We'll show you where to stick your health inspectors!

Hayata!

(Shit, now that bloody Turkcell song's stuck in my head)

Aaron